


The Shadow of Israphel

by Zelda48 (thatwriterguy)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), The Yogscast
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6088714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterguy/pseuds/Zelda48





	The Shadow of Israphel

**SoI Chapter 1: Crash and Burn**

Prologue: The Last Messenger

The walls stood imperiously, overlooking the massive desert and expanse of sand and cactus that burdened it. They had been erected to protect against the desert, to protect the snowy and forested lands beyond from the dryness and death that the walls contained. The desert was massive with rolling dunes; huge cacti twice the height of a normal man and full of what some said were monsters. After all, that was the best explanation that anyone could offer for the odd noises, clanks and moans that came out of that place as all rational explanations had long been discredited. Expeditions to unearth the secrets of these noises had too failed as many never came back from trips to the desert, and reason and rationality were abandoned for what many saw as an evil buried in the sands. That was why the walls were built, to protect the populace from what laid buried in the desert. Some said it was more than monsters that lay in the dunes, that an evil spirit that had lain low for an age had been the cause of the infestation of the sands and the odd disappearances at night. That spirit some said was an entity called Israphel, a thing no one knew what it looked like but had come back for a twisted revenge on those who had admonished him in another age. Some even said that the sands themselves were cursed and contained some horrible taint, which would affect anyone who came into contact with it for very long.

At first to combat the sands towers had been built and soldiers, engineers and mages had been sent into the dunes and the outlying towns in a hope to combat the growth and find out the cause. It was to no avail as many years passed and the sands only grew, the rising tide of sand swallowed up town after town and even entire biomes in its wake. The rumors of an evil entity grew more prevalent. At one point the sands threatened the existence of all with disappearances mounting and the desert engulfing more and more of the landscape. And so the walls were built and the sands were contained but the evil never entirely ceased and after the failed battle it was again threatening the world. It was now more apparent than ever that the walls of the last standing outpost, Verigan’s Hold would eventually crumble to the power of the desert. A mission to the last tower would have to be undertaken by the only man who could venture into the desert and come back alive.                                                                                                                              

The desert was silent in the evening gloom while the nearby tower overlooked it. The tower was deserted and crumbling with its stones broken and cracked in many places. The topmost part of the tower was completely open to the wind and air and sandstone clumps had formed in its cracks from the fierce sandstorms that frequently coated the desert. Suggestive to its ancient appearance the tower had a history, it was as empty as the desert but once it had been full of life on the inside, guards once patrolled the top on lookout and the perimeter outlying the tower where walls had once stood. That time seemed like an age ago to the man at its demolished entrance as he walked towards the tower’s inviting gloom. Since then much had changed in the tower, first the sands, as the place had not always been a desert but had once been a swampy forest. Its fate had been horrible; sand now coated the trees frozen in time while the walls to the north were increasingly burdened with the rising tide of sand. Why the sand continued rising had been a source of unknown and great fear of those who lived near Verigan’s Hold let alone the tower but attempts to quell its rise had been futile, the walls were all that stood in its way. The tower was a testament to the crushing power of the sands; it was called Lastwatch Hold, once the proud tower to the south-west of Verigan’s Hold, which was thankfully still around but just. That was why the man was here, as a man on a mission to Lastwatch Hold for he would soon be dead and the way must be passed on, somehow. The way was the only one, which could be taken to quell the rise of the sands and the evil that was suspected to behind it all. As the man trekked to the sandblasted entrance a sudden blast of wind caught him by surprise, nearly knocking him over. He paused, steadied himself and continued inside.                          

The man paused at the entrance then ruffled through his knapsack pulling out a single torch striking it quickly, throwing a dull orange light across the gloom. Mercifully there were no mobs but the man was well prepared for it with an iron blade at his side while being fully obscured in iron armor. He glanced around the gloom then struck another torch placing it higher than the other at the east end of the room. The room now reflected nothing but decay, a few dusty and windblown tables and old tapestries long since forgotten. However, this was not the room the man seeked to enter as he crossed the room towards a stairwell at its end leading up the second level of the tower. Lastwatch Hold had four levels with each one serving a different purpose. The tower itself was the only part of Lastwatch that had not yet been consumed by the desert.              

The second level yielded as few results as the first and was just as empty except for a few chests, crafting tables and furnaces, the room had once been an armory as well as a smithy for there was an ancient rack nearby which held a few broken swords. The man paused briefly to light the room with a single torch and then moved on. The third level was the darkest and most foreboding of all the rooms. At one time the room functioned as the barracks for the troops who were funneled in and out of Lastwatch. The barracks were completely dark due to the lack of any windows let alone a hole in the tower walls. Carefully, fully aware of possible monsters the man slowly drew his sword and with his free hand he struck a torch and posted it at the stairwell entrance. He paused for a moment as the orange light flashed across the gloom to reveal a green shape moving quickly towards its visitor a hissing sound emitted from it. The man yelled and flung himself down the staircase just before the explosion ruptured the walls and the floor, sparing the man but raining dust and bits of blocky rubble lightly on his armor. The green thing was a creeper, a hostile monster that had rarely been seen before the sands. However since then it had spread as far as Mistral and beyond infecting the lands and was not so easily stopped by walls and doors. The man had been expecting it.

“That’s closer than I like it…” the man panted drawing himself back up raising his sword as he entered the third level of the tower, he stopped at the landing but there was nothing but quiet, the room was empty. Stumbling, the man fumbled in his pack for another torch, pulled one out, lit it and placed it on the far end of the room. The man glanced around, there were a few holes in the floor but the creeper’s blast had left remarkably little damage. The man smiled what good luck to be so far up in a dark, abandoned tower and to have encountered only one creeper! He did not lower his sword as he climbed the intact staircase to the fourth and final floor. There the man would meet his purpose and do what he must do as Verigan had told him long ago. As the man reached the fourth floor he struck his final torch packing slowly towards the center of the room. Carefully he planted the torch while holding his sword at the ready, as even in the top of the tower there could be monsters waiting for him. Once the torch was lit the man to see where he was. The room was that of the Templar Lords of Lastwatch Hold and was covered in ancient tapestries, a bed rested in the left corner its royal red sheets still intact, and chests lined the walls.

The man paused; the chests had long since been emptied of their possessions before Lastwatch had fallen to the sands. Regardless the man’s mission was to leave a message, for whoever may go so far to find it that would lead them to a way to save the world from the sands. The man coughed, reached deep into his knapsack and pulled out an ancient tattered piece of parchment taking great paints to remove it without tearing anything as he did so. The man reached up and removed his helm with a gloved hand for he could go about his task far easier without it blocking his view. Long ago, Verigan had given the parchment to him before the last battle in the instance that he should die. Verigan’s last instructions were still embedded in the man’s mind…

_Whatever you must do Karpath; take this parchment it is a map to the terrible evil that lies in the sands. I fear that if left alone, what lies there may fulfill the purpose it was built for... Be quick, the walls cannot hold forever, but know those here do not expect your return._

_I know Verigan._

_Very well, take this parchment and go to Lastwatch Hold. Leave it up in the fourth level of the tower in the chest nearest the bed with the crest of the Lastwatch Templars._

_Who shall find it?_

_Your son if he should make it so far…you know the why. Be careful Kartpath, if the map should find its way into the wrong hands all is lost. Remember, this map is the last and most essential clue to unlocking the secrets of the sands. I entrust it to you Karpath and keep it well, keep it safe until you reach Lastwatch…Adaephon shall watch over the Hold in your stead…._

The memory faded into nothingness as Karpath stood in the light and unfurled the map. It was a painted hand, the final clue to destroying the sands. With a swift motion, Karpath opened the chest nearest the bed and with hardly a flicker laid the map gently down into the abyss of the chest and closed it clicking the latch.

“Good luck…my son.” Karpath murmured sheathing his sword starting down the levels of Lastwatch Hold as he put out the torches one by one.

Verigan was right, he would not return, but perhaps his son or someone would – someday.

…

Chapter 1: Crash and Burn

Xephos stood to the far end of the edge of the airship and surveyed the land below. A wave of relief passed through him as he gazed down at the familiar icy beach with its tall snowy trees to the far interior. The trip from the cursed survival island had lasted three days and they were home at last. Home!

Xephos was a tall dark haired man in a handsome red long sleeved shirt and stylish pants; he also sported a pointed dark beard, which was also handsome. Over his back was slung a diamond blade in a carefully guarded scabbard. Xephos was a spaceman, from a planet whose name no one could pronounce, but at heart he was one of the earth for he had spent nearly his entire life there. At first, he had lived off the land and in various humble abodes, but twelve years ago he had befriended a dwarf by the name of Honeydew and ever since the two had lived together in a cave by the sea. For the duration of the trip he had stayed with the company of a Skylord, an old man and Honeydew on a magnificent airship.

The airship had rescued Xephos and his companion from their last adventure, an ill-fated turn on the Survival Island, a desolate little strip of sand with exactly one tree. The cause of the misadventure was a boating accident as Honeydew- being a dwarf was not the best sailor and Xephos was even worse and thus they ended up far from home on the world’s smallest island. Now after a two week long stay on the airship they were home at last, at the icy beach where the two companions had made their home in a large cave near the sea. Their rescuers, Skylord Lysander and Old Peculier had taken them from the Survival Island aboard the airship, which was called the _Celeno_.

Elated by the end of the long trip and their return home, Xephos turned around with a new confidence and observed the man at the control panel. The man was Lysander the Skylord, a noted astrologer and explorer of the far lands. Lysander was a big, burly bearded man with sleek black hair and a neatly trimmed beard; he wore goggles just over his eyes that signified his higher stance as a Skylord.

“Lysander on behalf of Simon and myself, I thank you for getting us here.” Xephos said. Lysander shrugged noncommittally at this,

“Don’t think of it. Such things merely constitute my duty as a Skylord.” Then as if he had never heard Xephos he turned back to twisting and raising the control dials cursing silently.

“Um – right…”

“Glad to be back hero?” Lysander asked looking up briefly from his difficult work at the control panel. Xephos grinned,

“It’s great to be back Lysander. I’m glad you found us way out there on the island, but I can’t quite get over how you found us all the way out there.” He said. Indeed, it was indeed a question Xephos had asked Lysander many times before, as there were no signs of land even a thousand blocks away from the little island they had been stranded on.

“My navigational technical techniques hero.” Lysander said. _Navigational Technical Techniques_ only Lysander knew what it meant but he had claimed long since that all Skylords had them as Skylords were born not made.

“How did you really find us?” Xephos asked with a small smile.

“I already told you hero, although I _suppose_ luck was something of a factor in our meeting...”

“Oh! Right… That reminds me, how long will we stay?”

Lysander turned his back to him,” Stay where?”

“At the…um cave you know.” Xephos added. Lysander did not respond for several moments,

“No, I’m afraid we cannot stay long hero. The ship is running low on coal and Skyhold is still well over two hundred kilometers from here. Therefore… it is in the best interests of the quest and the _Celeno_ that we land here today and then sail to Skyhold tomorrow!”

“Oh, I was just hoping to stay for a little while. It’s kind of a sentimental thing-” Xephos mumbled.

“Ah! Yes, yes understandable. However, you are coming with us to complete the quest of course? Surely the _Celeno_ isn’t that uncomfortable for traveling?”

“No! I mean yes, I’m coming. And yeah the ship- it really is very comfortable!” Xephos protested, thinking back for a moment at the remarkably comfortable sleep he had been getting recently.        

“Glad to hear it. I had the cabins newly furnished a while back actually. The previous owner of the _Celeno_ didn’t take care of the beds one bit! I couldn’t believe the sagging…”       

Xephos laughed, “I wouldn’t worry, you’ve done a better job than that. Loads better.”

“I should hope so hero.” Lysander said stiffly as he returned to his duties.         

“All I meant was that we could stay an extra day. Me and Simon – we’re a bit tired to be honest and we haven’t been home in ages.”

“I apologize hero, I misinterpreted your intentions.” Lysander said brusquely “Forgive me, of course we can stay an extra day if you need the rest. An extra day would be better now that I think of it for our trip… it would give me the time to properly fix this ship for one thing.”

Xephos smiled gratefully “Thanks Lysander.”

“It is the least I can do you for you hero. However I hate to cut our chat short but we are about to land and it is a delicate business so I must give the controls my full attention, otherwise we could land in pieces!”

“Oh... right, you do that.” Lysander gave a nod and returned back to the control panel and began twisting the dials and punching buttons on the dais.            

Xephos gave a sigh, and once again leaned against the rail thinking about the trip once again and all they had been through. Their adventure had all started when strange shapes and signs had appeared around their home, the cave, which Honeydew was particularly fond of. Then one midsummer day he and Honeydew had spotted the bridge to the fledgling town of Terrorvale not a few kilometers from the cave! Memories flooded back, those of the few inhabitants of Terrorvale and its initial pleasant outlook with Father John, Old Peculier and Daisy the blacksmith. Then the terror truly struck and Father John died, and after leaving things returned to normal for a short time until Daisy disappeared and the boating accident on the Survival Island delayed her possible rescue. _Now_ , Xephos thought _we are here, as a company, and we are home at last, what next?_ The question popped up in Xephos’ head but the spaceman knew all too well what was next. They had to find Daisy, the blacksmith of Terrorvale as she was the love of old Peculier’s life, and as they had heard her father Evan Duke had offered a reward for her return. As much as the spaceman wanted to pretend that they really would be going home, and staying put there Xephos knew it wouldn’t be the case, _not after what happened in Terrorvale anyway… We land here today and sail for SkyHold tomorrow!_ Xephos reiterated the Skylord’s comment in his mind for a moment. _Maybe after this stop there really is no coming back…maybe this is the last time we’ll ever see the cave…_                               

Breaking out of his thoughts Xephos turned again on the railing to look down on the progress the airship had made to the cave. The old cave was stark against the landscape, barely visible but it could still be easily distinguished from the pine trees surrounding it. Xephos felt a twinge of excitement just to look upon their old home again. The return back felt almost felt as if they weren’t really leaving tomorrow but were arriving for a long winter’s stay.                                  

Suddenly a loud crash ricocheted from below followed by a loud curse in Dwarfish mingled with a note of pain. Xephos stumbled with surprise and Lysander even looked up from his work long enough to see Honeydew appear from the lower deck clutching his head in pain.

“Silly bed almost cut my beard…” he muttered as he stumbled on the last step onto the deck. “Ooooh…”

“Hello Simon.” Xephos greeted him cordially.

Honeydew was sometimes called Simon, his given name to those who were closer to him but he was best known by his liking of sweets and honeydews for which he was called.

Honeydew looked over at him – whilst covering his eyes to shield himself from the glare - “You’re awake?”

“What time is it?”

“Eleven hero.” Lysander informed him.

“Eleven!” Honeydew exclaimed “I could have sworn I didn’t sleep _that_ long… are you sure about the time Lysander?”

“A Skylord is always on time dwarf.”

Xephos smiled, classic Honeydew. “You’re a bit out of it huh?”

“You could say that…” Honeydew groaned.

“So – how much ale did you have last night…?”

“Oh only a little.” Honeydew replied still clutching his head. Xephos laughed, only a little ale was unheard of for a Dwarf, especially one like Honeydew. _He’s probably cleaned out all of Bode’s ale by now…_

“Oh really? How many pints did you have again? Was it seven or eight?”

“Honestly I can’t bloody remember…” Honeydew groaned covering his ears from as another steam pipe blew. “Ooooh… gods that’s loud…”                                                                          

Honeydew was slightly taller than most dwarves and sported a large orange beard, which as he thought, most women found handsome, despite the fact that he still had yet to meet a fellow dwarf woman. Currently he was wearing a rather tight pair of pink pajamas – once belonging to the Skylord’s grandmother under his short-coat and belt; it was a sight that was hard not to laugh at.

“What’s he up too?” Honeydew asked, gesturing to Lysander.

“We’re about to land.” Xephos explained.

“Something wrong hero?” Lysander called from behind the control panel, it was difficult to tell but the Skylord was concealing a smile of amusement behind his beard. “Feeling unwell?”

“No- uh I was just curious what you were doing – looked like you were having a seizure or something…” Honeydew said with a wave. “And uh no, not exactly. Well, no I’m not in top notch shape at the moment… I was just telling Lewis. Hey what are you looking at?” The dwarf’s pajamas had slipped and exposed Honeydew’s hairy middle, which both Xephos and Lysander were staring at.

“Is it a loose fit for you?” Lysander asked, concealing a smile.

“Loose? Yeh I guess you could say that Lysander… right! Uh… I’d better go change then.” Honeydew said awkwardly shuffling back down the stairwell to the bottom of the airship. “The light’s too bright up here…too noisy really,” Honeydew murmured as he disappeared below, upon which Xephos burst out laughing.

“Morning… ” a morose voice called simultaneously. It was a voice full of wistfulness, the one of the fourth companion Peculier. Peculier appeared from behind the corner of the control dial, his lined, thin face worn behind his shaggy brown hair, which was now balding with age in the middle. He was dressed in pull-ups and a well-worn shirt. As for his name he was called old Peculier because as he had once told them, he was well over a hundred years old. Although by the look of it Peculier didn’t look one bit his age. It was almost as if the man had an endless supply of anti-aging cream Honeydew had once pointed out.

“Peculier!” Lysander exclaimed “What are you doing up so early? It’s almost noon, surely that's a bit early for last night.”                                                                                                         

Peculier raised his eyebrows in apprehension, and then lowered them. “True, true, I was just checking the mechanics back there. Did you know you’ve got a cracked steam pipe Lysander? The hissing woke me up.” Lysander looked at him with interest before turning away.

“Thank you Peculier, I’ll mend it after we land.”

Peculier nodded, “That’s fine, but I won’t need a rest then.” Xephos gave a small smile; he had slept well, thankfully having chosen the bunk the farthest from the engine room.

“Have we got any tea Lysander?” Xephos asked, “To celebrate since we’re home and everything?”

“Tea? I wish hero, I wish… we ran out of it just yesterday I’m afraid. Perhaps we have something just as good…” Lysander muttered “Ah dwarf!” Lysander motioned to Honeydew who reappeared in his usual dwarfish getup “Do we have any more Jaffa cakes?”

Peculier raised his eyebrows again almost comically giving the appearance of an excited young boy.

He turned and looked at Honeydew. “Jaffa’s… you have Jaffa cakes dwarf?”

Jaffa cakes were extremely delicious and were an excellent substitute for typical baked cakes as they were more easily made. Jaffa’s were so delicious they were the only thing Honeydew liked more than a stout glass of ale. The dwarf had a personal Jaffa stash at the cave and a second for guests, although he ate most of those too. For Honeydew Jaffa’s and good, quality bacon had sustained him almost entirely during their travels. However if they or he were actually out of Jaffa cakes it was fortunate they were home once more.

“Uh …Yeah, well I hate to break it to you but we _might_ not have any more -” Honeydew burped causing Xephos to laugh. “of them… I mean… They were delicious!”           

Oddly enough Peculier’s face fell visibly at this news. His sudden sadness wasn’t surprising however. Throughout the trip Peculier had been known to fall into sudden depressions. According to Lysander it was part of his condition that had existed since Daisy disappeared although it hadn’t been as bad since the heroes had met him.

Honeydew sauntered over to the old man grabbing him around the shoulder making Peculier stumble.

“Something wrong old man? I mean if you’re feeling bad about the Jaffa’s I just didn’t want them to go to waste that’s all…you know all that good food and everything- it was kind of tempting and I couldn’t help myself -”

“Yes… Are you feeling un-well again Peculier? A lie down might do you some good perhaps?” Lysander interjected looking up brusquely from the control dials.

“N-not really Lysander.” The old man said. “It’s just- I’ve been thinking about it, where we’re going, how will we find Daisy…?”

“We’ll find Daisy someday... uh very soon!” Honeydew grinned encouragingly giving Peculier another pat on the back flooring him.

“That’s – good to know, but I didn’t need that.” Peculier blushed pushing himself off the floor, Xephos and Lysander roared with laughter as the old man brushed himself off.

“On a more relevant point…” Lysander said over the voice of Honeydew apologizing to Peculier, “At Skyhold there is many skilled navigators, like me, who can aid you in your search.”

“Oh…right, but-“ Peculier protested weakly.

“Oh really Peculier! All of us here feel your loss but can you expect us to change course in the middle of the trip?” Lysander asked exasperatedly. Peculier had been dropping hints the entire trip that he believed that going to Skyhold wouldn’t help them find Daisy. Lysander finally had told Peculier two days earlier that they were going to Skyhold and that was final. Since then Peculier had ceased to argue with the Lysander over the matter.

“Aye…when we get there then…” Peculier sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the Skylord’s answer. “Just well…you know how it is.”                                                                              

In an instant the slightly lighthearted mood had almost instantly vanished from the airship as the conversation ceased and Lysander returned to his duties. Xephos sighed and leaned against a stack of wood planks facing the railing while he gazed at the familiar land far below it. Suddenly he heard a clanking from behind; apparently Peculier had come to join him on the railing.

“Where will you go?” Xephos asked. Peculier sighed and looked down and started tracing the wood with his fingers.

“With Lysander I suppose. It’s my quest isn’t it? I can’t go back to Terrorvale really…” he sighed. Terrorvale… there had rarely been a town more aptly named than that place. Xephos shivered at the memory of their disastrous visit to the place several months ago. The town had enough troubles with zombie attacks, infestations of enormous, man-eating spiders by itself. Then, after they had finally wiped out all the mobs Reverend John went mad and tried to kill them along with everyone else in the place after abducting Daisy.

“Honestly I don’t blame you if you don’t want to go back.” Xephos said. Peculier nodded in agreement,

“Aye. You’re right hero. I can’t go back…because of her- I mean Daisy.” Peculier drifted off gripping the railing tightly closing his eyes as if he was fighting off a bad dream.

“C’mon” Xephos said putting a hand on his shoulder, “You’ll find her old man. I know you will.”

“Aye hero… I’ll go to the ends of the earth to find her.” Peculier replied with a note of determination entering his voice “Will you-“

“We’ll go with you. You know that.” Xephos started “-until we find Daisy.” Honeydew rumbled gently. Peculier smiled glumly, the kind of smile that conveyed a thousand emotions. Xephos turned and directed to the mainland.

“That’s the cave, our home.” He said to Peculier who glanced passively over the railing.

“Yeah that’s the fabled Yogcave right there.”

“I don’t know about the fabled bit Simon.”

“The Yog…sorry?” Peculier asked quizzically.

“The Yogcave! Oh come on everyone knows about the Yogcave…” Honeydew said. Peculier shrugged,

“You never called it that before hero. What does Yogcave mean?”

“Big cave in dwarfish.” Honeydew explained.

“Ah… erm…” Peculier said, “That’s a rather… interesting name.”

“Wait it really means big cave?” Xephos asked “ _That’s_ what you named it?”

“Yeah.” Honeydew said “What? I mean it _is_ like that -”

“Yeah, yeah I get the name and everything.” Xephos said. “I thought it was something more sentimental that’s all…”

“Sentimental? Lewis, it’s a huge rock thing with a hole in it!” Honeydew laughed. Lewis was a nickname that Honeydew had given to Xephos because of his tendency to explore things and his unusual level of curiosity.

“Anyway we’re home, we’re home we’re hooooome!” Honeydew danced happily “and hang on, are we getting a bit closer?”

“I’m not sure.” Xephos said peering over the side. “Maybe we’re finally landing.”

“On a pyramid?” Honeydew asked worriedly.

“A Pyramid?”

“What is it heroes?”

Suddenly, a loud rumbling emitted from the ship steam spewing from every pipe, omitting the sound of Lysander cursing loudly.

“Whoa!” Peculier yelled.

“Oh gods, ohhh gods! What- What’s happening?!” Honeydew yelped as the ship gave a dangerous lurch to the side and began a sharp plunge downwards.

“The ship’s lost control! Grab on to something, we’re going down!” Lysander bellowed over the crashing crescendo around them. Xephos grabbed on tightly to the railing as the airship leaned to the side and suddenly gave a forward lurch throwing the companions against the bulkhead of the ship.

Xephos looked over his shoulder just in time to see his friend slam into the railing next to him. The ship was in chaos, boxes were flying through the air and exploding their contents on the deck like miniature bombs and a loud screeching noise emitted from the pipes.

“LYSANDER IF WE DIE THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Honeydew bellowed.

“Watch out!”

But no sooner had Xephos said this before the world turned black, then yellow and red, a distant explosion roared in the background. Xephos was thrown from the deck into a mound of white mesh that became yellow, then red and orange, fire. The fiery image terrified the spaceman more than anything else. For the first time in his life, Xephos felt like he was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. The flames consumed him, covered his eyes, his smell, his world was of fire of the Netherland and in it was the face of Israphel glowing like a victorious demon.                                                                                                                                         

With a surge of remaining strength Xephos did a somersault over the tangled mass of burning mesh and the heat stumbling into a thick gray mist. Smoke. It greeted him like a long awaited reprieve, or perhaps a heavy gin. The smoke was thick, intoxicating even. Into the deep Xephos sank as the heat evaporated from his body. Exhausted Xephos collapsed; the water had put him out. As the swirl of darkness enclosed him, Xephos thought he could see a strange square of deep purple growing steadily larger. Then the world turned black, and the sinister shape vanished into nothingness.                                     

_A square of purple stones?_ The thought had awakened Xephos, and immediately the pale, twisted face of Israphel resurfaced in his mind.                                                                            

Xephos blinked and sat up, he was in a pool of water and foodstuffs and broken blocks were scattered all around him. _Gah!_ He thought as he looked down at his clothes in great distaste, _they’re ruined!_ The fabric of his over-shirt was torn and the bottom edges had largely been robbed of their royal red colors. However, to Xephos’ surprise he didn’t feel hurt in any way. Carefully he felt his legs, his back, face and chest, but there was nothing wrong, he had survived unharmed.

Nevertheless, the demise of Xephos’ clothing couldn’t remotely compare with the chaos in front of him. Lysander’s airship was utterly destroyed, as parts of it were still burning while feathers floated out of a broken crate nearby, and rigging and mesh lay in charred heaps around the destroyed deck. Brushing himself off, Xephos rushed to the other side of the ship finding Peculier and the Skylord in hardly a better state, Peculier had lost an eyebrow while the Skylord had received a complete fiery makeover. But on the plus side neither Lysander nor Peculier was bleeding or seriously hurt – that at least was somewhat relieving.

“If Jasper ever hears of this… IN NOTCHES’ NAME HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! Lysander roared. “Elder Naboth will NEVER forgive me for THIS! It was working PERFECTLY FINE THE WHOLE RUDDY TRIP!”

“Lysander?” Xephos asked. “Are you okay?”

Quietly Lysander turned to Xephos and called to him,

“Looking for the dwarf spaceman?”

“Yeah! Is he okay? Do you know where he is?” Xephos wondered what would Honeydew look like after the accident considering Lysander’s and Peculier’s almost comical appearance. Lysander motioned with a bucket towards the cave.

“Look over there.” He growled.

Xephos whirled around and glanced towards the cave. Indeed, there was Honeydew was at the cave pickaxe in hand, and around him their home was in flames.

“Simon!” Xephos called, as he started running towards the dwarf his thoughts turned back to earlier. _The cave…oh no!_ Xephos thought breaking into a near sprint; the image of Israphel flooding his mind Xephos slowed his step and drew his sword. As he cleared the outer rubbish it was clear, the cave had been blasted to bits. He paused and surveyed the grim scene. There was a massive hole in the roof and floor of the cave; smoke was billowing out of the ruins and the charred remains of Honeydew’s pig farm rested nearby. But what stood out from the rest of the destruction was a tall square of obsidian at the top of a stone staircase near the cave. _A portal!_   

Honeydew rested next to the fiendish thing quivering with rage, he gripped his axe handle tightly in a fit of self-control. Half his beard was burnt off as was his hair giving him an almost perfectly circular bald spot in the back and the appearance of a charred log on the front.

“Simon! I- are you..?” Xephos paused trying his best not to laugh at the sight of the Dwarf. “Are you okay?” he finally asked. “No cuts, bruises or anything?”

“I’m alright- just a bit of a headache. But…they, Israphel…they did it those bloody-“Honeydew raged. Xephos gave a heavy sigh,

“Good gods! It looks like they TNT’ed the hell out of everything!”

“Yeah did you like Israphel’s homecoming present?” Honeydew asked sarcastically “Welcome home- and by the way we blew up your house!’” he said in a good imitation of a creeper’s hissing voice.

“I don’t see him being too popular at parties.” Xephos surmised. Honeydew chortled at this,

“Not to mention you could wear his face as a Halloween mask.”

“Is there anything left?” Xephos asked “Did you find anything? And how long have you been at this?”

“I haven’t been here long, just a few minutes… or maybe around an hour. I haven’t really found anything. Most of the stuff’s blown to bits… aside from this stupid Nether portal!” Honeydew said ramming the end of the pickaxe on the obsidian edge.

“Wait… they got the ingredients for your Jaffa factory too?” Xephos asked.

“Oh cripes! That reminds me!” Honeydew exclaimed, eyes widening “Oooh I hope they didn’t get that… it took ages to make - wait here Lewis!”

With that Honeydew bounded off into the smoky ruins of the cave, pickaxe in hand.

“Wait- Simon!” Xephos called but it was too late – Honeydew had already disappeared. “Good luck then…”

Xephos sighed and glanced around the cave.

“But we’ve still got the Jaffa cakes haven’t we?” Honeydew grunted tossing a sack on the muddy ruined floor. “Why not? Have a good snack after nearly dying!”

“Thanks for saving them Simon.” Xephos said giving a rueful smile. Carefully, Xephos reached into the sack pulled out a Jaffa and began munching on it _mmm… there is nothing like a Jaffa after a near death experience_. Unlike Xephos or the other passengers Honeydew sustained few burns and just a scar near his knee. The dwarf stood and banged his axe on the floor in frustration.

“So much for staying eh?” Honeydew said gruffly. “Maybe if Lysander had fixed that bloody steam pipe-“

“We don’t know why the crash happened mate.” Xephos said. “If anyone will know it’s Lysander, and besides there’s no way he crashed on purpose.”

Honeydew shrugged and dug into another Jaffa cake. “It’s _terrible_ luck Lewis. _Terrible_.”

“Yeah… d’you reckon Israphel put that portal here?” Xephos asked, after all a hell-gate certainly wasn’t exactly the kind of décor _he_ would’ve put up. Honeydew just shook his head.

“Lewis you’re a genius. A bloody genius.It sounds like the kind of thing an evil, scheming bastard like him would do doesn’t it? But the portal doesn’t go anywhere, it’s sealed somehow.” Honeydew trailed off as Lysander followed by a subdued Peculier rushed towards the destroyed cave.

“Well he must have blown up the cave too. He did it once before didn’t he?” Xephos surmised.

“Hey Lysander, any ideas why we crash landed?” Honeydew called.

“What the devil is going on here?!” Lysander yelled, then he trailed off, as he had noticed the portal. “Is this foul thing your portal?” he glared pointing his sword at the portal looking from Honeydew to Xephos; they shook their heads as Lysander visibly relaxed but only slightly. He was still quivering with rage.

“That’s well enough… this must be the work of Israphel.”

“Way to point out the obvious Lysander.” Xephos said flatly.

“Yes, well that would explain a lot of things!” Lysander huffed.

Peculier gestured wildly to the portal, “So Daisy is in that…thing… And why can’t we go get her?”

“Because it’s-“ Honeydew started but Lysander cut across him.                                                

“Even if we can enter the hell-gate it is dangerous! And I shouldn’t have to remind you that even in that case it wouldn’t matter Peculier. We don’t know where in the Nether she could be! As much as I do feel for your loss Peculier we cannot go off on wild quests unprepared… and if you need evidence of this disastrous situation just look at my ship!”

“LOOK AT MY HOUSE!” Honeydew bellowed. “By the way - Lysander how did we crash?”

“I don’t know!” Lysander exclaimed.

“Oh that’s lovely.” Honeydew said, crossing his arms “He crashes, we nearly die and he has no idea how it happened. No idea!”

“Yes… while I am sorry for the loss of your home…”

“Cave.” Xephos interjected.

“Yes… your cave – while I apologize for the damage I haven’t been able to thoroughly examine the situation! But no– this is not the time for bickering.” Lysander exclaimed trying his best to keep his temper under control. “We must pack up our supplies and leave as soon as possible.”

“But why? Daisy is IN THERE! And you want to leave?” Peculier cried. Honeydew rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Lysander, old man…OI!”

“I knew I’d never see her again…” Peculier moaned before turning to Honeydew “what was that dwarf?”

“I was GOING to say that the stupid thing,” Honeydew gestured to the portal “Is blocked. I tested it earlier.”

“Blocked?! We shall see about that!” Peculier shouted as he strode up the staircase to the portal.

“Please Peculier! It is blocked! Such antics will only cost us more time…” Lysander pleaded. Peculier ignored him and began yelling into the portal’s purple abyss,

“DAISY! ANSWER ME! DAISY!”

“Maybe it would help if you said her last name?” Xephos suggested. “So she knows which Daisy you’re talking about?”

“DAISY DUKE!”

“Oh for Mordan’s sake…” Honeydew grumbled as he grabbed a Jaffa cake and aimed it at Peculier.

Lysander gave him an odd look “Dwarf? What are you doing?”

“Showing him.” Honeydew said simply.

“Showing him what? You’re not doing what I think you are -” Lysander started but before he could finish his sentence the Jaffa cake soared through the air and hit Peculier on the back of the head.

“Aaaah!” Peculier screamed as he toppled forwards into the portal. There was a stunned silence as Peculier’s form seemed to meld into the portal but a second later there was a loud groan and he was blasted from the portal and fell down the steps at the group’s feet. Moments later the Jaffa shot out of the portal straight into Honeydew’s hand.

“Told you it was sealed.” Honeydew said. Lysander whirled around furiously,

“What were you thinking?! You could have killed him!”

“Oh yeah, you got a fair point there.” Honeydew said as he bent over Peculier and hoisted him up with one arm “Alright old man? Sorry about that…”

“I-I’m okay.” Peculier said shakily. Lysander glared crossly at him,

“There were better ways to test it than that!” he snapped. Honeydew rolled his eyes and took a bite out of the Jaffa.

“So? No one’s hurt everything’s fine, right?”

“Yes- no. No! Everything is not fine at all!” Lysander exclaimed.

“What do we do now?” Xephos asked.

“I don’t know heroes… I don’t know!”

“Want a Jaffa? We have extras you know.” Honeydew said.

“No thank you dwarf… no I would not like a Jaffa…” Lysander sighed and started furiously polishing his goggles. Honeydew shrugged and took another bite out of his Jaffa.

“Your loss.” For several moments no one said anything until Peculier broke the silence with a sigh of exasperation.

“So Daisy is in the Nether… And we can’t save her…”

“But was Daisy taken into hell Peculier? Think! Maybe Daisy escaped.” Lysander said without conviction. Everyone already knew what had happened to Daisy as there was no way she could have escaped. Xephos jumped off the short outcrop to join Lysander.

“Lysander’s right, you’ve got to stay positive. Besides you know we’ll help you find Daisy no matter where she is.” Peculier looked down at the blasted floor and shook his head but everyone knew he understood, they would all follow him to whatever end to complete their quest.

“I know heroes. Thank you.” he said calmly.

“Very well, if you have finished Peculier then it is now time for sensible measures to be taken…” Lysander said testily, “Honeydew! Dwarf! Can you destroy this foul thing?” the he queried, pointing his sword at the portal. “Although the portal is sealed it may not stay that way and the last thing the world needs is legions of pigmen and Notch forbid Israphel – streaming out of this hell-gate.”

“’Course I can, I’m a mighty dwarf of Khaz Mordan!” Honeydew said importantly.

“It is of the greatest importance hero. As long as the portal is here the whole surrounding area is in danger!” Lysander exclaimed.

“Yeah I think that was a _little_ self- explanatory.” Honeydew said.

“It pains me but Daisy will have to wait…” Peculier said sadly.

“Please, dwarf!” Lysander exclaimed, gesturing to the portal in impatience.

“Yeah I know! Er- right I shahl destrotyr the uh…operal- thing.” And with that Honeydew stood up with a flourish and began chipping away at the purple sides of the portal with his diamond chipped pickaxe.

“Are you drunk?” Peculier asked bemusedly, watching the dwarf’s slow process. _Honestly, anyone would be pretty off balance after that crash so probably not._ Xephos thought.

“No No- just finishing the Jaffa… and uh a little disoriented.” He burped “There we go!” Honeydew smiled triumphantly at his handiwork. There was now a hole in the portal, and it was broken as was confirmed by the purple light of the cave abruptly going out.

“Should we trust him with the pick if he’s drunk?” Lysander asked in a low voice, which was most unfortunately heard by Honeydew.

“I was finishing eating!” Honeydew said indignantly. “Besides, you crash landed. How can we trust _you_ with anything after you almost got all of us killed?”

“Oh really! Hero I meant you no ill will let alone a terrible crash!” Lysander exclaimed indignantly “If I had wished to kill you then I would have crashed out in the ocean, before we reached shore.”

“Sounds like you’ve planned it out already.” Honeydew snorted.

“Please be rational hero…” Lysander pleaded “You were talking irregularly and I was only concerned about your state of mind.”

“Yeah well – you do that!” Honeydew growled as he sat and ran his hands through his puffy orange hair. “My state of mind? I couldn’t be better! And I talk ‘irregularly’ huh? Snob!” he said once Lysander was out of earshot.

_Welcome home,_ Xephos thought with heavy irony. The whole situation was very depressing, he had a game of billiards planned for the evening on their new pool table but instead it had been destroyed with everything else in a fiery inferno. He listened to Honeydew and Lysander bicker for a time before he turned and walked towards the ruins of the cave. _Yeah…_                

Gradually silence engulfed the shoreline as the sun slowly sank into the hills. Smoke poured from the wreckage of the old ship, on which the Skylord gazed morosely, occasionally cursing himself for the crash. Xephos planted torches around the perimeter of the cave as dusk descended into early nighttime.

“Well heroes…” Lysander sighed “we must be off. I have been studying several maps and have found a shelter for us. It’s a city – Mistral City and we can get rest, food and help there.”

“Let’s get some supplies hero. It’s almost nightfall and it’s a one - day trip to Mistral.” He continued as he motioned to Xephos and headed for the ship where bags and crates of materials were scattered everywhere on the coastline.      

Xephos rolled up his sleeves as he and the others rummaged through what was left of the _Celeno_. Many hours later, at nearly eight in the evening –according to Lysander’s watch- the group was ready to go. It was high nighttime and the monsters would be spawning in the distant gloom of the forest. Next, he lit a torch and staked it to the lower hull of the airship as to better see what he was doing. Carefully, he bent down and filled his knapsack with remaining items and supplies around him that were untouched by the crash. Once this was done Xephos carefully examined the contents of his sack which included: several days’ worth of apples and pork and his crafting bench as well as multiple wood and stone blocks. He was wearing a diamond embedded chest plate under one of Lysander’s cloaks, which he found, oddly enough in a chest of sand. His own quiver of arrows was slung over his back, and over his shoulder was his restrung his bow. Xephos put a hand on the hilt of his sword _I’ll need you eventually_ he thought grimly.

Suddenly there was a loud yell. Xephos turned around to see Lysander immersed in a very large pile of mostly – ruined clothes. “Oh… HELL! My BEST clothes! They’re ruined! Utterly ruined beyond repair!”

Xephos made a mental note to pack extra clothes, including some underwear, which he was in dangerously low supply of, upon hearing Lysander’s anguish over his clothing situation.                   

Once Xephos finished packing he leaned against the airship’s broken hull and took a last look atthe old cave.

“Goodbye.”

It had just occurred to him this could be the last time he’d ever see it. The cave was smoldering now, with fires in several places. Almost nothing remained of their old home save for part of the kitchen. Instead Israphel had destroyed the cave, with the now destroyed portal as a symbol of his conquest.

“There’s no use dwelling on it I guess…” Xephos muttered as he walked away from his burning home. He trudged up the hillside following the torches that led east of the cave.

Shortly Xephos reached the top of the hill and made his way down the side. Everything was aflame on the other side as well. Several meters away Lysander and Honeydew waited for him with their weapons drawn and knapsacks filled to the brim. Off to the side, Peculier was staring off into the distance with a much smaller knapsack on his back and an old sword laced around his belt. Xephos had to admit; the one good thing about the fires was the great deal of natural lighting and heat that they provided.

“Greetings Lysander!” Xephos called.

Lysander raised his sword in greeting. “Hail Xephos! All ready to go?”

“I’m ready to go!” Xephos replied.

“Excellent! Right then, let us depart heroesfor the fires will soon be out and the road to Mistral is long and most likely quite dark.”

“How long is the road?” Xephos queried.

“Twenty kilometers hero! Over a day’s walk according to my calculations.” Lysander finished glancing at Peculier.

Xephos hurried down the hillside sword in hand joining a nervous Honeydew and the two hurried forwards to catch up with Lysander and Peculier who were already moving towards the icy coastline. Lysander chuckled,

“There is nothing to worry about heroes – it’s not such a bad journey if you need the exercise!”

“You mean it’s not too long if you have infinite energy.” Honeydew grumbled.

“Oh cripes I nearly forgot to ask… hey Lysander why’d we crash?” Xephos asked.

“Smoke from the cave apparently. It was clogging up the pipes!” Lysander informed him.

Honeydew paused and gestured with his axe to Peculier. “Umm, Lysander? What’s wrong with him? He’s got that look my cousin used to get when he lost all his privileges- kind of vacant really…”Lysander became suddenly reserved at the question,

“The night I believe, it brings back memories from what he tells me…from Terrorvale. It’s part of his condition -” Lysander started but he was interrupted by a sudden choking followed by a loud, horrible shriek.

“Peculier?” Lysander whirled around just in time to see the old man collapse to the ground “PECULIER!” he to the facedown form of the old man, Peculier was barely breathing, while clutching at his chest. Lysander looked at him with great concern as he threw off his knapsack and pulled out a vial full of a dull pink liquid from his belt. Xephos planted a torch nearby for lighting. Peculier was pale, his eyes wide and his face gaunt; he was shaking and clutching at his chest.

Peculier started grabbing at his face and clawing at the ground. Lysander attempted to hold his hands in place but Peculier threw him off and screamed “Aaah…I-Isra-AAAAAAIIIEEEEE! Ah…no…no…NOOOOO!”

“Honeydew, Xephos, one of you – hold him!” Lysander bellowed.

“Got it!” Honeydew said as he launched himself atop Peculier and forced arms to the ground and held them there.

The three watched for several moments in horror as Peculier screamed several more times and writhed on the ground, his face wound in an expression of fright and extreme pain.

“C’mon, live old man live!” Xephos yelled.

“Xephos I need you to force his mouth open.” Lysander said in a calm, commanding voice as Peculier let out another piercing wail.

“I don’t -”

Lysander removed the lid of one of the pink vials “Do it!”

Without another word Xephos threw off his pack, got down next to Honeydew and grabbed Peculier’s jaw and precariously held it open.

Lysander crouched down above Peculier’s head and poured the pink liquid down the old man’s throat, emptying the vial. “Close his mouth and sit him up so the liquid goes down him.”

Honeydew obeyed him and gently forced Peculier upright. A moment passed, then two as the three sat in silence and apprehension watching as Peculier collapsed on the ground and let out a deep sigh. Honeydew stared at him and pressed an ear to his chest

“He isn’t breathing…gods Lewis, he isn’t breathing-!” he exclaimed.

However a moment later the old man slowly stirred as one coming back from the dead. Peculier’s eyelid’s flashed as he awoke. “Lysander?” he asked as he glanced nervously from Lysander to the two heroes.

“He’s alive…” Xephos looked in wonderment at Lysander “You’re alive!” he and Honeydew hugged Peculier for a brief moment lest they harmed him in his fragile condition.

“Praise Notch!” Honeydew said joyfully.

“Yes indeed!” Lysander concurred.

“And Hail Hydra!”

“Um… that’s taking it a bit far isn’t it?” Xephos laughed.

“No, not really.” Honeydew smiled.

“What was that thing you used Lysander?” Xephos asked, turning to Lysander.

“A potion.” Lysander said dismissively, “Nevertheless, let us rejoice once again for you are well Peculier!”

“Hooray!” Honeydew chimed in. Peculier gave a weak smile at this,

“T-thank you heroes…what happened to me though?”

“You had a fit.” Honeydew said “Really scary.”

Peculier nodded, “That would explain it… I felt this horrible pain.” The old man said “that I would never see Daisy again, that all of this was for nothing. I saw him…” Peculier trailed off. At the mention of Israphel a new sense of urgency seemed to spring into the Lysander,

“You say you saw Israphel, Peculier? While you were delirious?” he asked, tugging his beard thoughtfully, “That makes it even more urgent we get to Mistral. You will need proper caring old man.”

Peculier nodded and clutched his chest uneasily, “It was a terrible face…”

“Yeah Israphel’s an ugly one.” Honeydew agreed.

“I don’t even think he’s got that kind of face that only a mother could love.” Xephos said.

“I feel kind of sorry for his mum honestly.” Honeydew added “I mean think about it, how would you feel if you were the one who brought the pale - faced git into the world?”

Xephos smiled “Yeah that’d be pretty depressing… but really are you okay now Peculier?”

“I-I’ve been better.” Peculier chuckled.

“Here, you can travel in the middle so we can protect each other.” Xephos suggested. Lysander agreed,

“An excellent idea hero, if we are closer then I will be able to save you if another attack assails you Peculier. But first, are you feeling strong enough to walk?”

Peculier coughed “I think so.”

Lysander smiled “That is well. We must not linger a moment longer heroes! The road to Mistral is long and poorly lit and danger could be waiting for us at any turn, and Notch forbids it should if Peculier has another attack.”

Lysander immediately went back into his stride supporting Peculier. Xephos didn’t like to think about it but Lysander was right; danger would soon fill up the night with every nightmare imaginable, especially creepers. Moreover, to Xephos’ displeasure, the night was indeed getting darker every second if that was possible.

“Coming?” Honeydew asked fidgeting with his pickaxe.

“I would never miss it.” Xephos smiled and fell into stride with his friend as they made their way into the night, their weapons drawn. The suddenness of Peculier’s stroke let alone the terrible screams he had made had stunned him, apparently his condition was far more fragile than he would have guessed. As they traveled the light from the fires grew steadily dimmer and dimmer as an ominous marking of their progress.

“Feeling better?”

“What’s feeling better?” Honeydew said quizzically. Xephos gestured to his head,

“Your head Simon.”

“Oh, um – yeah it’s a bit better thanks.” Honeydew replied with a weak smile.

“How’s the old man holding up?”

“He’s still with Lysander.” Honeydew replied.

“Light torches!” Lysander commanded. This order was followed by a great deal of fumbling and cursing as Xephos and Honeydew tried to get their torches out of their overloaded packs without bumping into something and keeping up with Lysander. _Probably should’ve organized this a bit better_ … Xephos thought in irritation.                                               

Xephos had been standing on the ice for such a long time that he hadn’t noticed that everything had gone suddenly quiet around him. Xephos gazed ahead through the gloom; there was nobody there! _Where is the bridge?_ he thought nearly slipping on the ice. _Or for that matter,_ Xephos paused _where the hell is everyone?_ He stumbled and struggled to find his bearings.

“Come on! Really? Dammit I've fallen behind!” Xephos swore loudly and glanced around him. He couldn’t see anything except for a few dark spots on the ice. Maybe it was melting? _In the middle of winter?_ Xephos wondered, drawing closer, wood. The word hit him like a bomb; it was what was left of the bridge, long since blown to bits.

“Hello!” a voice cried through the night. Xephos spun around.

“What the -”

Where was the voice coming from? _Honeydew?_ Xephos took a deep breath and plunged into the night.


End file.
